Hurtful Words
by legna-demangel-nomed
Summary: Stan says something to his good friend Kenny that he regrets immediately. StanxKenny


***Author's Note:** I've recently gotten back into South Park (and writing fanfics) so I decided to write one with one of my favorite couples. I hope it's not too bad. There is character death (Kenny who, of course, comes back alive) and inappropriate language so if you don't like it, then either stop here and go back to other stories or deal with it and enjoy the story

***Disclaimer:** I do not own South Park (if I did, there would probably be more gay and lesbian couples in it)

~xX-Xx~

"_You fucking inbred hood-rat faggot bastard! I fucking hate you!"_

_That was the last thing Stan Marsh said to Kenny McCormick and it made those bright blue eyes fill with tears again. He hurt his friend and he didn't know what to do to fix their friendship. He didn't mean to say those words, but it happened, and it's killing him to know that he said something so cruel. It's the reason he hasn't slept in the past three days and it's the reason why he's lying awake in bed right now, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the incident._

*Flash Back*

It had happened at Cartman's sleepover on Saturday night. The four friends were sitting in the basement, currently the fat-ass's "lair", eating pizza and drinking grape soda. They were playing the game _Call of Duty,_ the two television screens each split into two screen views. They were plenty far into the game when Cartman threw his controller in anger and turned on Kenny. He yelled and screamed at the blonde for killing his character (repeatedly) to the point where the small boy ran out of the room in tears.

That outburst from the fat-ass caused Kyle to get angry and yell at Cartman—which escalated into a violent fist fight a few moments later—while Stan left to go find Kenny. The raven-haired boy soon found him in the front yard, sitting on the front stoop with his arms folded on his knees and his forehead resting on his forearms. He walked over to his friend, noticing the other's body shaking with heavy sobs, and he sat down beside of him.

The blonde froze, feeling a hand touch his shoulder through his thick orange parka. He didn't realize anyone had followed him out and he didn't want them to because they would see him crying and he didn't want anyone to see how weak he was (that didn't include his ability to die multiple times and revive himself because honestly, he couldn't control that).

"Kenny?" the other boy asked quietly and received a muffled 'go away'. He wrapped his arms around the blonde, feeling how much smaller the boy was, and pulled him into his embrace. "He's an asshole, Kenny, and he's full of shit so don't listen to him."

Kenny was silent as he cried into Stan's clothed chest, smearing snot and salty tears into the fibers. He listened to the gentle words that the other boy said quietly into the hood of his parka and felt a hand stroking his back to help relax him. It was a weird feeling getting this kind of attention from someone, especially one of his friends.

"You're better than him, Kenny," the raven-haired boy said several minutes later, "You're kind and caring, brave and strong, selfless, a great listener, and an even greater friend. That's why I like you."

This stopped the blonde's tears and made him glance up at the other boy that held him close. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his parka and asked in his usual muffled voice, "You like me?"

"Of course I do, Kenny, I've liked you since the day we met."

Bright blue eyes started into dark blue eyes for a long moment as thoughts raced through the blonde's mind. Deciding that he liked that Stan liked him back, he made his move. He pressed his pale chapped lips against the other's softer ones and held him tightly, trying to put all of his feelings into this one kiss. He had wanted to kiss the other for a long time, sure he had an interest in girls, but he also had an interest in Stan because Stan didn't give a fuck about where he came from. Kyle didn't either, but he hardly talked to him and Eric was a mentally unstable douchebag.

There was no reaction from Stan for a long time, he was too shocked to do anything at first, but then, the shock wore off and anger filled his chest. He shoved his friend away from him, exclaiming, "Dude! Gross!" He wiped his mouth with the back of his mitt, feeling nauseous. "What the fuck was that?! You sick fuck!"

Kenny, feeling a dull ache in the back of his head where it smacked with the cement, stared up at the raven-haired boy. Crystalline tears filled his bright blue eyes again and his bottom lip quivered.

"You fucking inbred hood-rat faggot bastard!" the other boy yelled, "I fucking hate you!"

That was it then, Kenny stood, and before he could be stopped, he ran to the street. The tears started falling and he felt a painful ache in his chest, making his heart hurt. He stepped onto the asphalt, deciding to go home, and was instead hit by a large truck.

Stan stared at the spot where his friend vanished, seeing only blood on the street. The truck hadn't bothered to slow down and see what it hit, in fact, it was already gone from sight. But the image didn't leave and it brought forth a feeling of regret. He had caused that. "Oh my God."

Kyle came outside then and glanced around. "Stan? Where's Kenny?" he asked innocently.

"I killed Kenny," he said quietly, too quiet for his best friend to hear. He was stunned.

"Guessing he went home?" The ginger didn't wait for a reply before saying, "C'mon, let's get back inside. Cartman's gonna finish off the food if we don't show up." He dragged his friend into the house and down to the basement.

Cartman was sitting on the couch, playing _Call of Duty_ without the others there, he had killed them off several times, torturing Kenny's character for the crimes he committed. "Poor sack of shit go home?" he asked, a slice of pizza hanging from his mouth.

"His name's Kenny, fat ass."

"Hey! Don't call me fat, stupid Jew!"

"Don't call me stupid!"

This started another fist fight between Kyle and Cartman, a violent one that lasted for only a few minutes but added a great deal of damage to the both of them. Dark bruises, black eyes, and swollen lips were bound to show up the next morning.

Stan sat in his armchair, ignoring the two, and started off into the distance. He thought about what happened outside and knew that he was going to Hell for what he did to Kenny.

*End Flash Back*

Stan now stood by the bus stop sign, yawning once with dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep. He stared down at the snow at his feet, hands in his pockets, and listened to Kyle and Cartman's bickering. They did this every morning and honestly, they sounded like an old married couple, but he would never say that out loud unless he wanted to get kicked in the balls. Besides, he had more important things to worry about, like Kenny still not showing up for school. It was three days now that he was absent and he was getting worried, but he didn't know what he was supposed to do.

_God?_ he thought, glancing up at the cloudy sky, _If you can, will you send me some help? A hint, a clue, anything, to help me get back my friend? I would appreciate it._ He normally didn't talk to God, he wasn't even sure he existed, but it was worth a shot if he could get some help with his problem.

"Hey, Stan!" Kyle yelled, separating the raven-haired boy from his prayer to a spiritual being that he wasn't even sure was real. "The bus is here!"

Stan boarded the bus, following the ginger, and dropped into an empty seat. He turned to the window and started at the scenery with tired eyes, ignoring the comments about how shitty he looked today.

A small white carnation flower drifted on the wind, following the raven-haired boy, but was cut off from its goal by the school bus doors snapping shut. It floated to the ground but was thrown into the air again as the bus rolled away and passed Stan's distant glazed-over stare. It spun in the air after the bus.

*Later That Day*

"What's wrong, Children?" Chef, the local 'lunch lady' asked Stan who sat on the steps near the playground of the school. The boy hadn't talked to him much during the past few days and it worried him. He worried more when he saw the shape the boy was in.

"Nothing."

The large black man sat on the steps beside the boy, practically smelling the lie in the dark depressed atmosphere that surrounded him. "Come now, Children, you can tell Chef what's bothering you."

A soft sigh. "I fucked up, Chef."

"What happened?" He rested a hand on the other's shoulder, such a light gentle touch for such a large calloused hand.

"I said something mean to a friend and I don't know what to do."

"Did you try talking to this friend?"

The raven-haired boy only shook his head. He had been too scared to go over to the McCormick's shack and try to see Kenny. What if he did and the blonde didn't speak to him? He couldn't bare it if his friend never spoke to him, but it's what he deserved—no, he deserved worse, like rotting in Hell.

"Try it, Stan," Chef said, "Don't let your fears stop ya from patching up your friendship."

"I'll try, Chef, but what if it doesn't work?"

The man smiled and said in his kind voice, "We'll cross that bridge if talking things out doesn't work, okay, Children?"

"Okay," the boy smiled a bit and hugged the large man, feeling only a tad better, and even more worried.

*After School*

Stan walked down the sidewalk, thinking about what he was going to say to Kenny when he saw him. He knew he had to apologize and he had quite a speech thought up, but he was sure that it wasn't enough. He had to have something else besides a bunch of words. He needed help.

A flower, the same one from that morning, floated towards Stan, determined to catch him this time. It caught a chilly breeze that sent it straight into the raven-haired boy's face where it was grabbed roughly by a mitted hand.

The boy opened his hand and found a crumpled flower laying in his palm. It was a simple flower, a pure white carnation with blood red edges on the petals, and Stan knew it well. His friend was fond of these so maybe buying some would help him apologize.

He placed the flower in his pocket and ran to the nearest floral shop. He was able to buy half a bouquet of those special carnations with only a few dollars—the woman thought he was trying to win over a girl so she had given him a discount. The flowers were wrapped in a sheet of designed plastic and tied it off with a sparkling sapphire ribbon.

Hopefully Kenny would love the flowers.

*McCormick Shack*

Mrs. McCormick opened the door to the urgent knocking and found the Marsh's son standing on her front doorstep sweating. Before she could say anything, the boy ran past her and up the stairs to her youngest son's room. She shook her head, closed the door, and went back to the couch to smoke a joint and drink alcohol with her husband.

Stan paused outside of his friend's bedroom door to straighten up his clothes and wipe the sweat off his brow. He gave the flowers a quick good once-over, seeing they were still perfect, before he opened the door and stepped into the room.

The bedroom was dark, only a thin strip of sun lighting the small area. There were clothes strewn about the floor, including a worn orange parka. The owner of the parka lay on the bed, the blankets pulled up to his neck.

"Kenny?" the raven-haired boy asked quietly.

The other stirred a bit and rolled over, and when he found his friend there in his room, he shot up out of bed. He fell face-first into the floor, the thin sheets tangled around his legs, and his precious life force flowing out of his nose and into the worn carpet. He was helped up a moment later, now with the sheets pooled around his waist, and was handed an old towel to stop the blood flow.

Stan stood there, the other's eyes staring at him, so he looked at his feet. The bouquet was now hiding behind his back, staying there until the boy holding them could speak. "Kenny, I…um…I'm not sure how to say this," he bit his lip for a moment, trying to remember the speech he rehearsed many times in his head. "Um…a-about the other day…well what I'm saying is…um…those things I said…uh…"

Kenny yanked his friend into a one-armed hug, knowing that the boy was sorry and forgiving him for the words he said. He felt the other hug him back and he smiled. "You're forgiven, Stanley Marsh," he said through the t-shirt, his voice muffled.

The blonde felt the other's body shake and could feel something wet soaking into his tank top. He patted the other's back when apologizes were mumbled into his chest. "It's okay, he nudged the other back so he could wipe away the shirt from his nose, and the blood now stopped, "I shouldn't have kissed you."

Stan shook his head. He wouldn't admit this to anyone, but he kind of enjoyed being kissed by this boy. Maybe not with the snot and tears ruining it, that was really gross. "I got you some flowers," he said, holding out the bouquet.

The smaller boy accepted them and stood. He left the room, returning a few minutes later a blood-free face and a vase of red-edged white carnations. He set the vase on the nightstand by his bed and hugged his friend again. "Thank you."

The raven-haired boy wrapped his arms around the blonde, smiling. "Don't ever kiss me with snot on your face again."

"I won't."

"Good 'cause that was gross."

"Sorry," Kenny apologized, "Maybe I can make it up to you?" Before he got a reply, the other boy pressed their lips together in a soft kiss, making him smile.

They separated a few minutes later, the atmosphere now relaxed and happy, back to the way it was before but now even better.

"You look like shit, Stan."

"Haven't slept that much," Stan answered. "You want to come over to my house for a sleepover?"

Kenny smiled more. "Yeah."

~xX-Xx~

***Author's Note:** I may or may not make a second chapter, depends on the reviews. (Also, if you've read my other two stories Blood Lust and Birthday Surprise, then note that I'm going to possibly be taking them down at some point and rewriting them). Please review. =^.^=


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